


The Riddle

by BluntBetty



Series: Grimmauld's Fairy Tales [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Commitment, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Love, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Opposites Attract, Porn With Plot, Riddles, Series, Smut, smut with substance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluntBetty/pseuds/BluntBetty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard times for the witches & wizards of Britain afraid of commitment as the Ministry slowly introduces ideas of marriage into law. To get back at them, Hermione has decided to play hardball and proposes a game of wits. Whichever man can stump her will win her hand, but is she ready to face just who the candidates are? Part of the Grimmauld Fairy Tale series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Riddle

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:  
> Hello, hello! A new Grimmauld Fairy Tale for you right here! Those of you who haven't read the first yet can either go to my profile, or search for "Howl." That one is a Hermione/Remus pairing based on Little Red Riding Hood. These can be all stand alone, so don't worry if you haven't and/or don't want to!  
> Cookies to anyone who has heard of the original Grimm tale this new one is based on!  
> Reminder, this is rated M for a reason.
> 
> Those of you new to my Grimmauld Fairy Tale series should just know that I'm pairing our favorite bookworm with the dashing wizards of Harry Potter and flipping the traditional Grimm fairy tales (and other tales, not just Grimm) into modern tales of romance with Hermione and her beaus. Each are stand alone and with different wizards. I may later flip back and redo some wizards, but let's see how many we go through first.
> 
> Please read, enjoy and review!

In typical Hermione Granger fashion, the muggle-born witch found herself frustrating an

entire Ministry department as well as the Minister of Magic and close friend, Kingsley

Shacklebolt. Her mule-like stubbornness was well known to her friends as family, so really, why

did they insist on such ridiculous notions, such as  _marriage_  and the like?

"'Mione, please. They're not going to wait much longer on you. If you don't comply soon, they're snap your wand and kick you to the Muggle curb," Harry Potter looked across the table imploringly at his best friend, hoping that even a single word he said was getting to her. "I know they said it's not compulsory for now, it won't always be. And if they change it, they won't let you have your pick."

"It's not a matter of  _if_ , Harry. It's when. And don't think I don't know they won't turn this around and try to pair me with someone ridiculous...like Cormac." Hermione shuddered. "This ' _Suggested Wizarding Revival Proposal_ ' is complete tripe, and while usually am all for the rules and such, I abhor this one."

"There must be something, a loophole, maybe, that we haven't seen yet..." Even Harry's voice lacked the hope he tried to convey with his words.

Hermione played with her empty tea mug, a dark smile flit across her face. "You and I both know I've searched that proposal six different ways. It's sealed tight. I almost admire whoever they had write it," she added, "It was probably Percy."

"The git."

She could do nothing but nod grimly. A silence fell over the kitchen in the small London flat Hermione was letting, only the purrs of Othello, Hermione's half-kneezle kit sleeping under the table sounded. It resembled a freight train, compared to the quiet of the humans.

It was nearly six years since the two of them, plus their otherwise engaged (with his new wife, Pansy) friend Ron Weasley had met with other players for the side of the Light against Voldemort and his twisted followers and won. And while the wizarding world as a whole was slowly making progress in the correct direction, fear was still prevalent, especially with those who not only ran the research and logistics of the wizarding populace, the arithmacy experts, but also the handful of true Seers that were brought in from around the globe, hired by the shrewdest of Ministry officials.

They all came up with the same result, even two and a half years later: the British wizarding populace would become so minuscule, most would scatter and the magical traditions once grandeur, would be forgotten.

So they came up with the  _Suggested Wizarding Revival Proposal,_ posting it in the Daily Prophet, sending owl upon owl to residences with leaflets and pamphlets of information on what the  _Suggested Wizarding Revival Proposal_  meant to each individual witch and wizard worth their wand...and virile enough to continue the future generations of budding magic users to send to Hogwarts. And while it wasn't an actual law yet, the spike in unusual and sudden marriages was a bit discerning, to say the least.

The older, already parental generation didn't seem to mind this  _Proposal_  much, as it meant the younger, rowdier kids would hopefully settle down that much sooner, realizing how perilous it really was to be a single witch or wizard. At least, that was how Molly Weasley saw it. Every opportunity, since the  _Suggested Wizarding Revival Proposal_ was published for the public, she'd tried to set Hermione up with her sons.

She hadn't seemed all that picky, first and most obviously trying to get her and Ron to hook up. Instead, he'd already had his eye on Pansy, who was actually pregnant when they married (don't tell Molly) due to a night involving too much Firewhiskey and lewd pub songs at the Three Broomsticks. Then it was George, who quickly realized what his mother was up to and came out of his joke shop workroom just long enough to tell her off, before holing back up, working hard to avoid the noticeable lack of his twin beside him. Percy had been next and, to most people's shock, both he and Hermione had dated briefly, about eight months, before he'd appeared at the Burrow one evening, pale and twitchy, muttering how she'd nearly ripped his head off and dumped him.

The next night, after drunkenly weeping over a consoling Harry, Hermione hiccuped, "Perce'd been the best fuck ever, H'rry. Shit, what did I do?" Harry stared blank at the wall a moment, contemplating the clearly (hopefully) rhetorical question, before prying the empty shot glass from her and and tucking her into bed, leaving the necessary potions on her nightstand before leaving.

After the Percy fiasco, which was rarely ever mentioned again, Hermione let Molly play her matchmaking games, determined to show the woman she wasn't really the marrying type. Next came Charlie, who was another rocky relationship for the witch. He'd wanted her to move to Romania, and in similar fashion, his parents found him at their home, in a right fit, raging about how Hermione was afraid of commitment more than himself and she'd nearly taken his head off with a misdirected hex in his direction that actually took out her poor attempt at taking up a hobby, a painting of Crookshanks. A line of Prewett cousins who didn't pass the snuff and a single night (and morning) with Draco Malfoy, of all people, left Hermione with a reputation that had men laughing at the idea of dating her.

One night, Harry came through Hermione's Floo, eager to show off the ring he'd just bought his fiancee, and found her sobbing into her couch cushions, empty bottles of butterbeer scattered across her coffee table. For all her bluster and smart, confident personality she put off, Hermione's insecurities came out threefold when she was drunk. Harry tried to keep her from drinking too much as best he could, he knew she hated when people saw her like this.

"Harry..." she croaked when he gathered her up in his arms.

"Oh, 'Mione."

She sniffed. "Would you marry me, Harry? If I properly asked you to put in for it, would you? Save me from this awful Ministry shite?" She looked up at him from his arms, eyes glazed over from crying and the drink and watched the emotions on his face.

Harry contemplated what she asked of him. Truthfully, he would, if she meant it. She'd done so much for him, sacrificed her childhood to keep him safe, in the name of friendship and the Light. It would be the least he could do. He knew her heart wasn't really in her question so he had nothing to worry about, really. "Hermione, you know I would. Luna might not be so fond of the plan, but we both know we owe you everything..." He trailed off, brushing the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Should I go fetch the paperwork now, send it off with your owl, Pepper?"

Hermione jerked up in his arms, tumbling off the couch and to the ground with a thud. Immediately, she sat up, a fearful look in her face. "NO! No, no no! I just...I just wanted to know. Thank you..." Her voice ended with a squeak, worn from speaking so much after crying so hard.

"I mean, we do have a history, so it's quite easy to see we'd probably be compatible..." Harry continued, acting like her graceless fall and outburst hadn't happened.

"Harry, stop!" she started to giggle. "That was one time, we were kids! Ahh, stop!" She tried covering her ears and Harry complied with a chuckle.

"Come over to Grimmauld for the weekend, Hermione. I want you over so you're there to celebrate with Luna, Sirius, and me. I'm asking her Sunday..."

The liquor in Hermione's system seemed to dry up by half hearing the seriousness in his voice. Even in her drunkenness, she could sense the faint touch of fear his voice held. He was actually afraid Luna would reject him? Tell him no? As if. And she told him just that. He admitted that she was right, that while his fear was irrational, he was still going to feel it until he heard yes from his girlfriend's lips, and helped her stand. With a wave of his wand, he cleared away the half dozen or so empty bottles and turned to Hermione.

"Let's get you some sober in a bottle then pack, alright? I know it's ten thirty and all, late for an old lady like you, but the night's still young and you can come help me finish off Sirius' biscuits he left in plain sight before he comes back from visiting Teddy and Remus." He guided her carefully to the bathroom, letting her grab the vials of potion she needed, ignoring the tongue she stuck out at him and his jest.

Once the potions took effect, Hermione smacked herself on the forehead. "Harry, stop letting me buy alcohol, please. I end up a trainwreak every time, lately."

"Yes, ma'am."

Hermione packed an overnight bag, left enough food and water out for Othello and Pepper, and followed Harry through the Floo to Grimmauld. Immediately, she went to the kitchen counters and snagged the package of treats she knew were the canine Marauder's. Harry set the kettle to boil and pulled out the trappings for tea as Hermione settled herself in one of the more comfortable chairs at the table.

"You know, Hermione, I'm surprised you haven't turned this around on the Ministry yet and used them to get what you want over the  _Proposal_." Harry brought the full service around as he spoke, letting Hermione pour and serve the cups.

Hermione added a spoonful of sugar and a squeeze of lemon before answering him. "How do you mean? Blackmail? I certainly don't think I have anything on the Ministry to do that." Her brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle out Harry's thought process.

"Oh, nothing like that, I think. More along the lines of, follow their rules if they do something for you. Tit for tat, almost. But positive. You are good at that."

"Extortion. That may be a form of extortion, Harry."

He smiled innocently. "Like I said, you've always been good at that."

Hermione threw a chocolate biscuit at him, smiling despite herself.

"Hey now, don't go wasting perfectly good snacks!"

Sirius leaned over Harry, snatching up the broken biscuit as he passed through the kitchen, popping it in his mouth.

Both Harry and Hermione greeted the elder man, watching as he sat with them and poured himself a cuppa.

"Now, what's this I hear about illegal activity and what's a bloke got to do to be in on it?" He grabbed for his package of snacks, but Hermione held on to them keeping them just out of reach.

"I thought dogs couldn't eat chocolate," she teased, relenting when he pouted a bit.

Sirius greedily shoved several into his mouth at once, causing Harry to choke on his laughter and a wide smile from Hermione. "I'm not a dog right now, love. I'm a man. A man, I might add, with a new lease on life, yada yada, et cetera, et cetera." He waved his hands in the air, swooping in for another biscuit.

"I'm beginning to regret bringing you back from that veil if you're going to eat Harry out of snack and home."

Two years before, just before Christmas, Hermione had quit the Ministry's Unspeakable division and become the Ministry of Magic's liaison with the British government and now worked closely with the Prime Minister. But before that, she'd undertaken one of the biggest individual projects attempted by an Unspeakable under the age of eighty. She'd cleared the mysterious Veil in the Death Room of the Department of Mysteries of all trapped souls willing to come back to the living. There had only been a handful, six or seven at the most, but Sirius had been one of them, much to Hermione's relief.

When she saw him come from the veil, pale, but alive and breathing with a steady pulse, she'd immediately set his affairs in order to make his first few days easy, and then passed out for four days before waking, going through typical morning ablutions, and turning in her notice to the department, requesting a transfer.

During her research on how to deal with the veil without being lured in herself, she'd discovered it acted similarly to the Muggle purgatory. It was almost like a waiting room for those who were undecided between life and death. It held a powerful stasis charm in the dimension that existed between the rocks and air surrounding, so powerful, it seemed almost as if it radiated death. Her reading and suspicions had been confirmed when she was able to talk to Sirius about his experience in the veil. He was conscious for the entire duration of his stay, but while it had actually been seven years or so since he'd been fighting Bellatrix, to him it was maybe a few hours at the most.

Not only was his mindset and memories of eight years ago intact, his body was as well.

According to Ministry records, he was still a thirty-six year old wizard in prime condition. He was also a wizard cleared of all charges and nearly ten times richer thanks to the restitution the Ministry paid him for the wrongful imprisonment and mistreatment he suffered for the majority of his life. After dealing with the waterfall of paperwork at both the Ministry and Gringotts, Sirius came straight back to Grimmauld and, after an emotional reunion with Harry, he gutted the whole of his ancestral home, putting his overly full vault to work.

Grimmauld Place was now a bright, tastefully decorated home, that which Harry and his girlfriend Luna Lovegood shared with Sirius. It was the perfect place for company, to spend hours alone, and to raise a family in. Which was the point, Sirius pointed out to Harry when Hermione remarked on it when the work had been finished. He was officially signing the house over to Harry and, soon as Harry married, he would move out and find a flat or home of his own.

Soon, now that Harry planned on proposing to Luna in a matter of days.

"Go on, then. Show us the ring!" Sirius smiled wide at his godson. Hermione glanced towards the kitchen door, worried Luna would walk in any moment, ruining Harry's surprise. But watching the direction of her eyes, Harry assuaged her worry.

"She's at work until five in the morning, tonight, 'Mione. Don't worry."

He pulled out a velvet box, clicked the lid open, and revealed a platinum band with a modest diamond nestled in the center, surrounded by small moonstones. A very Luna kind of ring. Simple, but dazzling.

Hermione patted Harry's hand gently. "You'll both be so happy. I'm happy for you."

"Hermione, what are  _your_  plans?" Sirius frowned at the witch. "We all know soon they'll turn this joke into forced pairings and you shouldn't have to put up with that."

"I'll figure something out soon, don't worry."

"Does this have to do with the...less than legal methods you and Harry were talking about?" His eyes switched between the two.

Hermione let out a breath. "Not sure. It's got to be good, though. I'd be letting them all down if I didn't go out with a bang."

"That's our girl!" Harry and Sirius chorused at the same time.

"WHAT?!" Kingsley Shacklebolt looked up to the witch standing over him as he sat as his desk. Hermione looked calm and poised, but he knew her eyes were dancing in personal victory. "You can't put out a personal ad in the Prophet on the Ministry's expense, Hermione! Honestly, what are you thinking?"

Hermione pretended to pick lint from her work robes. "You want me to marry before you have to make an example out of me and I feel as if this will get us all in a direction that will satisfy us, if not comfortably contentedly. This  _was_  all yours and that retched department's idea."

As she expected, she'd been called from Downing Street to the underground Ministry to explain her actions. Putting out a personal ad, of sorts, calling for anyone eligible to try and marry her. They just had to give her a riddle that she couldn't answer within a reasonable amount of time. If they were more clever than her, she would agree to marry them. She'd given orders for the Ministry to foot the bill, which was one of several reasons why Kingsley was so angry.

"'...for an undetermined amount of time until such requirements are met by Miss Granger to satisfy the Department of Regulatory Wizarding Populace and Figures'  _Proposal_.'" Kingsley looked up from the memo he was reading from, owled over from the popular publication. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Not at all. We all know how picky I am and I would normally turn away regular advances. So why not have those eligible come to me? Surely I'll get my personal requirement of intelligence met, if nothing else. My marriage would be a farce, but at least we could have decent conversations at dinner," she twisted her lips in a bitter smile.

"If this is all, good day, Kingsley. The Prime Minister has to look over the papers you owled over yesterday and he won't be able to make heads or tails of it without me."

The letters poured in.

She ignored them all, watching as Sirius helped her take to checking batches for any laced with potions or hexes before burning them. She had explicitly said that she wanted to meet with applicants in person. She had even set  _office hours_  of sorts, for Merlin's sake. Clearly she was weeding out the stock quicker than she'd anticipated.

She'd asked Sirius to stay with her as she met with these sometimes random, other times familiar men. It helped to have someone she was comfortable with stand as a buffer.

The very first person to walk through the door had been none other than Percy Weasley.

"There is a word that is pronounced incorrectly even by the most scholarly. What is the word?" He stood his ground firmly, triumphant smirk barely tamed.

Hermione contemplated for a moment. "Thank you for your riddle. I will take no more than three days to have an answer for you. Both Sirius and I have it and we can call it up in a pensieve if needed. I will owl you with the answer, should I come up with it," her voice clearly dismissive.

Percy's face turned red, building in color until it radiated a lovely shade of burgundy. Hermione stared at him, face impassive, until he turned around and stormed out. The door slamming rang out in the house.

Then, silence, before...

"Do you know the answer?" Sirius asked.

"Incorrectly."

More silence.

A barking laugh as Hermione wrote her letter to Percy to give him the answer. She'd send it in the morning to avoid hurting his feelings. As she sealed it, the next man came in. Cormac McLaggen. It was going to be a long day.

x x x x 

 

"So, Hermione, just how many men's souls have you crushed with this game of yours?" Luna looked over her copy of  _The Evening Prophet_  to the brunette who was writing out letters containing answers to the riddles she'd heard in the last twenty four hours.

She frowned at her friend's phrasing. "Crushed? None, I'm sure. Except Charlie, maybe. Letters sent out? Forty. Letters I'm writing now? Another twenty six."

"You're under a bit of a deadline. You never know when they'll decide to change the bill from suggestive to mandatory. You might want to stop being so picky. I saw the one from Terry Boot. He's a nice man now. Former Ravenclaw and he even owns his own bookstore in Hogsmeade."

Hermione pulled a look. "He always acted a bit rude to me in school. Always thought he was better than me. Plus, his riddle, while only taking me six hours, was solved. And I'd like to play by the rules."

"Like you always did in school?" Luna teased.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at her friend.

xxxxx

 

*Four Days Later*

Three days ago, Hermione stared down at the parchment on her desk. She'd found a letter on her work desk, and thought to immediately destroy it, as she had with others on the first day. But frustrated at the lack of progress, she opened it, hoping it wasn't what she thought it was.

_Hermione,_

_Come have lunch with me. We need to talk._

_S Black_

Perplexed, she had tucked the note in her bag and went about her day until it was time to meet the Marauder.

Sirius waited until she'd properly dug into her pasta to give her his news.

"What can you make if you take the head of a lamb, the middle of a pig, the hind of a buffalo, and the tail of a dragon?"

Her hand paused, fork full of noodles, half way to her mouth.

"I won't hold you to it, if it turns out you can't figure it out. But I thought I'd make my intentions known." He smirked, then took a sip of wine.

"You...You can't be serious-AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT!" She stabbed the air with her fork, noodles flying off and onto the floor.

Sirius' grin faded a bit. "Hermione, you and I both know I wouldn't do it if I wasn't truly interested. You're a brilliant, gorgeous witch. Why wouldn't I be interested?"

Hermione blinked a few times, feeling like a mermaid out of water. Gathering her wits, she said, "I'll get back to you within three days. Thank you for your interest," and stood up, Disapparating on the spot.

"Well, bugger."

Today marked the fourth day since she'd last seen Sirius. Immediately after the surprising lunch, she'd Floo'd her work, letting them know she'd come down with food poisoning, that she'd call when she was ready to come back, then holed herself up in her flat. Wards changed to let no one in except Patronuses, Floo access blocked, she sat and contemplated.

The entire situation was making her think things, mull them over, and finally admit feelings and thoughts and memories she had repressed. The crush, the lust, the dreams. She didn't even want to admit it to herself, that her school age crush had leaked into her early years of womanhood, stronger than ever.

In survival mode, her brain did what it knew best to do in situations of decision making: made a list.

 

_Reasons Why I Should Marry Sirius_

_1\. He really is clever, despite what he wants people to think_

_2\. He is incredibly kind. His yearly restitution payments are directly sent to the orphan fund for Hogwarts education_

_3\. He's already like family_

_4\. He's devilishly handsome. Gosh, he'd better never see this list, I'd never live it down_

_5\. We do share a love of the Black family library_

_6\. I can hold a conversation with him longer than any other man, other than Remus and Grant Fuller, the intern at the Muggle Prime Minister's office. Luckily, Remus isn't interested and Grant is gay_

_7\. The sex would probably be fantastic_

_8\. I did promise to the wizarding world that whoever could stump me I would marry. Drat._

Hermione stared at the relatively short list, then prepared to make it's mate.

 

_Reasons Not To Marry Sirius_

_1\. He's roughly twelve years older than me (Though, really, mum and dad were ten years apart.)_

_2\. He's a practical joker. I don't know if my sensibilities would last a whole marriage with that...anticipation_

_3\. He was a git when he was younger. But he was indeed younger_

_4\. He's devilishly handsome and he knows it. He'd probably flirt with every other woman wherever we go_

_5\. He riles me up when we talk sometimes, on purpose_

_6\. I hate him and his riddle I can't solve!_

_7\. Drat._

Hermione frowned at her two pieces of parchment. She was a Gryffindor, but her list said otherwise. A bubble of shame rose up in her throat. She couldn't solve a silly riddle and here she was trying to justify her own actions, in the end. It was her dumb idea for this mess.

"I'm not being fair to Sirius," she moaned, scrubbing her face with her hands.

She stared and the ceiling a moment, letting her anger build up.

"THAT'S IT!"

She stood, threw on her slippers, and threw an angry fistful of powder into the flames, snarling, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld!"

Luna stood just steps away from the fireplace, a small measure of shock showing on her face at the unexpected guest. "Hermione? Is everything okay? It's only half six...Harry nor Sirius are up yet."

"You just answered my question, Luna. Thank you," she said shortly, barely taking the time to dust the ash from her clothes and stomped towards the staircase.

"You do realize you're in your nighty and dressing robe, right?" Luna called. Hermione paused, looking down but a moment, before continuing up the steps.

Luna watched her friend go up, her snit apparent. "I'd better put up a silencing charm on our room. Harry might not like the end result of Hermione's temper." A knowing smile settled on her lips as she finished making her tea and followed the other witch up the steps.

When Hermione reached Sirius' door, she faltered a moment, as if the solid wood sucked up some of her courage. But her hesitation only lasted but a moment and she crept into his bedroom, shutting the door with a silent  _click_. Given the nature of the world they'd all lived in the last twenty plus years, she was surprised he slept so... _relaxed_. Not one spell for warning, enemy detection or otherwise. Then again, he always did like to live dangerously and laugh in the face of anyone who wanted to do him harm.

Silently, she watched him. His torso was nude, covered only by the fine sprinkling of dark hair and accumulated tattoos from the years. His lower half covered by a Gryffindor red sheet, spread akimbo, taking up the majority of the bed. Her blazing anger left her with every soft breath he took, but she still wanted some answers and she was determined to get them using whatever means she had in her swotty little brain.

Hiking up her nighty from her knees to her upper thighs, she climbed on the bed, straddling his left leg, and leaned in to whisper, "Sirius, wake up."

He seemed to squirm a bit, jaw clenching before relaxing. Still asleep. Hermione whispered again before caressing his face gently. When this failed to do more than make his sigh, she huffed in impatience and gave his face a gentle but firm slap to the cheek.

Sirius stiffened, eyes wrenching open, his upper half springing up into a sitting position like a toy. The two locked eyes, determined brown with confused gray.

"Hermione? What-"

"Why do you want to marry me? Honestly?"

Sirius flopped back onto his pillow with a slight flair of dramatics. "It's too early for this, Hermione. Come back later."

Nostrils flaring, Hermione resisted the urge to grind her teeth. Instead, she satisfied herself by molding her body to his, grabbing his face between her hands and hissing, "You listen to me, Sirius Black. I'm marrying you. But I'll be damned if I won't hear what I want to hear from your lips!" She ground her damp center into his leg, which immediately caught his attention. Her hands slid from his face to his chest. She used him to lift herself up a bit, to look into his eyes."Tell me!"

Sirius blinked. "You're wet for me," his grin grew large. Yes, his attention was now solely focused on the frustrated witch spread on him.

She tried getting up, a shriek escaping her lips and tears starting to form in her eyes, but as she tried to swing her leg over the side of the bed, he grabbed her arms and flipped her so that her back was in the cool, empty spot on the bed next to him. Before she could escape him, he brought his larger body over hers so that he was now kneeling between her legs, her arms trapped in his large hands above her head. His sheet fell away to reveal him nude as the day he was born and already aroused.

This wasn't exactly going how she'd planned.

Then again, she hadn't planned much beyond snarling at him and acting scary.

"Hermione Granger, you are insane." He looked down at her with a completely serious face. One of his hands freed hers and trailed down her frozen arm, gently caressing the path of skin until he found her neck. His thumb brushed over her pulse, which thrummed, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"You are a gorgeous woman." He lowered his head close to hers, cautiously, afraid of her reaction. All he saw was her eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and lips parted. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips and he had to suppress a groan. He ran his lips along the pulse point his thumb had found, taking in her scent, the feel of her skin on his.

It was Hermione who groaned at the contact, so quietly. She could feel the smile on his lips grow.

"You are incredibly brilliant and entertaining." Hermione's eyes focused on the canopy above his bed as his hand ran along the shell of her ear, then, his breath. A move so quick, she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it, she thought she could feel the tip of his tongue run along the edge of her ear, following the outer ridge of skin. Another puff of air escaped her lips.

His hands traveled along her sides, only his fingertips daring to graze her breasts, covered in the silk nighty still, before moving on. They massaged her side and stomach. "You're loyal and loving." Her nipples tightened, becoming noticeably prominent. She licked her lips and this time Sirius groaned.

"What is it that you just can't believe I'd want you, love?" He stopped his sensual ministrations, putting both hands on either side of her head. His face was open, friendly, familiar. His voice touched with concern and frustration.

Hermione bit her lip. "No one ever wants the swot, Sirius."

His brow furrowed but a moment before smoothing out, his laugh was the last thing and yet the first thing she'd expected. "You haven't been a swot since old Voldie was trying to get his hand directly in the Ministry honeypot. You've learned to balance your bookish nature with a true woman's personality perfectly." He saw the skepticism in her face. "Truly. It's part of your charm. You've become such a classy lady, I'm shocked you've agreed to marry an old washout like me." His hand found its way back to her face, the backs of his fingers brushing across like butterfly wings.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Washout? Sirius, have you not noticed the witches? How their eyes follow you when you go to Diagon or Hogsmeade? You're still an example of prime wizard." Her hands seemed to realize they weren't being held down anymore and she firmly pressed her fingers along the intricate tattoos decorating his firm chest. "Plus you still have the bad boy persona a bit. The whole Azkaban thing and your days as a Marauder, you know."

Her hands traveled up from his chest slowly and she took in the way he started to pant, the dilating of his eyes, and the satisfaction ran deep to her core. They clung to his neck, fingers weaving into his thick, dark hair and she pulled him a bit closer.

"I have no idea what your damn riddle meant."

And she slammed her lips on his, moaning triumphantly when he immediately reciprocated. His tongue thrust into her mouth, dominating her, dueling with her own viciously. Her fingers dug deeper into his hair, pulling his head impossibly closer. His hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them in such a gentle, yet forceful way compared to the battle between their mouths. When he flicked her right nipple, she broke away, gasping at the sensation, taking in the much needed air. Sirius didn't miss a beat, immediately latching onto her neck, nipping and licking his way down to her collar bones.

"Siri-Sir-Sirius, please!" she gasped, pushing him away. He stopped, his lust glazed eyes looking down at her in confusion. But watching her sit up and pull off her nightwear provided him his answers.

He looked down at the woman under him, clad only in a pair of purple panties as she leaned back on her elbows. Her lips were already swollen, his love bites prominent along the column of her neck, and her dusky nipples pointing up at him provided one of the most erotic images he'd ever witnessed.

"Fuck," he growled, leaning down and taking one of the teasing peaks into his mouth. She tasted like milk and honey, the sweetest on Earth.

Hermione collapsed back to the pillows, all of her senses focused on the magic he made with his mouth, sucking and raking his teeth along the sensitive bud. Her fingers dug into his hair, her nails scratching his scalp, making him purr in his own pleasure. When he switched breasts, the cool air on her abandoned nipple made her hips arch up, bucking involuntarily. Another noise of satisfaction came from Sirius, obviously pleased that he could make her body react to him so well.

She tugged on his hair, wanting more from him and hoping he would get the hint. After a gentle nip, he left her breast with a  _pop_  and his lips migrated back to hers, their kiss much slower than the last. She was content to let him lead, the pace slow, the passion just as intense as the last as their tongues slid against each other, their teeth nipping at each other's lips. When he moved his head back a moment to breath, Hermione gave him a moment before taking his bottom lip between her teeth and pulling at it gently, then letting go.

"Sirius, I still haven't heard what I want."

His hooded eyes took on a light of awareness, and tenderly, he took her head between his hands, resting his forehead on hers.

Nose to nose, he said, "I love you, Hermione. I have since they day I came home to Grimmauld from the veil in my proper state and saw a vibrant woman helping take charge the comfort and planning of making sure I felt at home again and loved." His eyes closed a moment, remembering, before opening again and staring directly back at her. "Even Harry, exited and happy that I was back, was too caught up in the situation to see. But you cared for me, physically and mentally and emotionally those first few days. I knew then that no other woman would have that kind of compassion and strength like you."

Hermione closed her eyes as he spoke, a smile spreading on her face at the sound of his words. She hadn't realized just how much she needed words filled with absolute assurance to make her feel like the commitment was worth it. These were words she knew Percy would never be able to say. Words that Charlie might feel over time, but it would possibly filled with begrudging admittance years down the road. Even Harry, who's love of a brother could never truly give her this feeling of completion, fullness. This was what being cherished felt like.

"Sirius?" she whispered. He answered her with a murmur and a brush of lips across her own. "Please..." Her whisper became more desperate, her hips shifting beneath him.

He obliged her with another heated kiss and trailing his hands to her hips. Tortuously slow, he slipped his fingers in the waistband and slipped them down her goose fleshed skin before tossing them aside. As the cool air hit her heated flesh, she gasped, making Sirius moan.

He sat up on his knees to look at her fully. His eyes raked down her body from head to toe, taking in her mussed hair, flush face, the nervous habit of biting her lip (those lip that were so swollen from their passion) she was indulging in. The the marks of possession he left on her throat, her heaving chest, the subtle yet obvious continued shifting of her hips under his hands, all the way to her lightly tanned legs that continued behind him.

Slowly, keeping gray eyes locked with her warm brown ones, he took his hand to her mound, ghosting over the hot flesh. A mewl escaped her lips, motivating him to slip a digit in her slick lips, slowly pumping in and out. She grew wetter and he added his thumb to the are around her clit, rubbing everything but the button itself.

Panting, Hermione, reached up with shaking hands to pull him close to capture his lips with her own. Her smart little hands gently scratched down his chest until she found his nipples. She tweaked them, grinning into their kiss as he hissed. She lost her grin, though, when he removed his hand, whimpering at the loss of contact. Her whimper morphed into a moan as he replaced his fingers with the head of his penis, the tip easily sliding in.

"You're so fucking wet. Practically dripping for me," Sirius broke the kiss, whispering in her ear. He licked the shell and brought his own hands to her breasts. He shallowly pumped himself in and out of her, taking a deep satisfaction each time her hips tried to move up and meet him. She wanted more and he wanted to give it to her. He pulled out, then slid in to the hilt, his balls slapping against Hermione. They both moaned loudly, filling the room.

Hermione's nails raked down his chest, stopping at his hips. "More," she hissed. "More, faster."

Sirius happily obliged, bracing his hands by her head, picking up speed. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer still, her moans straight from her throat as he nudged her magic spot inside her. Between that and his pelvic bone rocking against her clit, she came without much warning, a scream of pleasure ripping from her mouth. Pleased with her release, Sirius buried his hand in her riotous curls and brought his mouth down hard on hers, cutting off the end of her screams and seemingly swallowing them.

Hermione reached down and dug her nails into Sirius' ass, using all her strength to bring him into her all the way. The pain doubled as pleasure and set Sirius off, his seed shooting deep within her, his growls spilled out of his mouth and into her own. The warmth flooding into her coupled with the new trail of bites Sirius was leaving on her throat gave Hermione a second, smaller orgasm and Sirius grinned against her skin.

The collapse of Sirius on her, spent and fully satiated, was one of the most self-satisfying moments Hermione had ever had. His head was nestled against the crook of her neck, buried in her impossible hair. His lips ghosting over her hot skin, still smiling. She brought a hand up to run through his hair, and in this moment, she realized.

This was the first time she'd ever  _made love._

There had been nothing that resembled her couplings with the other men she'd had in her life. This, tonight, had been full of pure emotions and reverence. It had been an experience of exploration. Yes, it was sex. But it wasn't just fucking.

She loved Sirius.

She was going to  _marry_  Sirius. And she was more than okay with that.

She blinked away the start of tears so that he wouldn't see and smiled wide.

After a moment, she wiggled, letting Sirius know he was getting a bit heavy and he was more than happy to allow her room to breathe. He slid off of her to the side, pulling her so that she was half draped on him. She dropped a quick kiss on his lips and watched his face.

"Sirius?"

"What's that, love?" He looked up at her with eyes half-lidded, a smile to match hers.

She flushed, embarrassed. "What's the answer to your riddle?"

His eyes became a little more alert, "You really couldn't figure it out?" He ran his hand through her hair.

The flush remained on her cheeks. "Of the last three days, I maybe spent the first day trying to figure it out. The other three were spent trying to figure out why you wanted me. But I'm still curious."

Sirius quoted himself, "'What can you make if you take the head of a lamb, the middle of a pig, the hind of a buffalo, and the tail of a dragon?' Did you take it too literal?"

Hermione shook her head and hid her face in his chest.

"It's a lion, love." He chuckled. "The lioness didn't see the lion in the riddle. I love it." He could feel her face scrunch up in thought as she let it click. She was going to be in a snit at herself for days now.

"I hate myself," Hermione deadpanned, lifting her head up and glaring at Sirius.

"No you don't, 'Mione. Now, let's go have a shower and get cleaned up and have breakfast."

Breakfast.

Hermione dropped her face into the pillow and moaned, Sirius gave her a questioning look as he put on his robe.

"Breakfast. We didn't put up silencing charms. Harry and Luna..."

Sirius barked a laugh. "I'm sure they've expected it at some point. Especially that bird, Luna." He bend down, took her hand and helped her out of bed. He found her discarded gown and robe, and dressed her with care.

He opened the door and that's where they found Harry, and Harry found them hand in hand, outside it with a tray of food and tea. He was trying to fight a smile and looking disturbed all at once, which made for a comical play of emotions across his features.

"Here. Be randy in here. It's too early for me." He shoved the tray at Sirius with a smirk and looked at Hermione. "S'long as you're happy. Merlin knows no other man did." He had a softer smile for her, and with a salute, he walked away, leaving the two happily bewildered.

"So that was most definitely an answer to our silencing charm question."

"Sirius!"

**Author's Note:**

> I'll apologize if some of you hate the layout of the story. For some reason, the layout I want from my word processor isn't transferring over. You know, readable. Or maybe it's just me being crazy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing but my own plot.


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